


What is right (What is easy)

by ConfessedGeek



Series: In The End [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Female Harry Potter, Gen, Master of Death Harry Potter, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 01:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16965486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConfessedGeek/pseuds/ConfessedGeek
Summary: "You never tried to fix your mistakes – did you Sir?”Slumping shoulders, more useless regret “Hazel...”Shaking hands, set mouth: “No. You decided to leave that to me.”





	What is right (What is easy)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everybody! I am so overwhelmingly happy that you're all happy with my latest chapter of _In The End_ and also really sorry that it took so long to come out and that I can't promise regular updates. So, here's a little holiday gift for you guys, hope you like it!  
> (Song suggestions for this include This is the end by Hidden Citizens ft Sam Tinnez and Young Summer, as well as Through the Darkness and Wars of Faith by Auotmachine)

* * *

The beginning looks like an end.

No heart beats beneath Narcissa Malfoy’s hand when she presses it to the still warm chest of the girl she should despise, smoothing over the fractures cutting into her own with all the grace and elegance of a Black before meeting vivid red eyes.

Because in the end, Hazel Potter is _/was_ a child – bravebrashandstupid and she wonders as dark eyes flicker over dark-robbed figures how no one could see this; how they don’t see their nieces and nephews in her small broken form.

 She wonders how she didn’t.

 

_The girl’s voice is soft, echoing through the vast empty space: “I thought you were great you know. Everyday I thought ‘if I could just be a bit better, a bit more like Dumbledore – this will all end.’ ” -_

Hazel’s body is cooling dead-weight in Hagrid’s arms, but he cradles her like he had that night so long ago, when she merely a sleeping babe cast alone in a cold world. Now, she’s a girl barely grown whose very name has become a prayer that’s screamed by various voices as people rush to the front doors at Voldemort’s proclamation:

“Hazel Potter is dead!”

_A shaking head, a wistful smile. “I forgot that we shouldn’t put too much hope into legends - ‘cause once you strip away the golden shine, they’re just as human as the rest of us.”_

The beast that was once a boy with too much ambition watches them with relish. Lipless mouth stretching into a terrible mockery of a smile even when their cries cannot be silenced and a tearful Neville Longbottom rushes forth without even a wand to protect him.

 

_“They fall, break, and make terrible mistakes with good intentions-”_

 

The Girl-Who-Lived does not twitch – does not breathe. The prophesy is finished; after seventeen years he is victorious.

_“And that’s fine. Really, I understand -”_

 

Even now Tom Riddle does not understand that a body is merely a vessel for the soul, not the other way around. He does not understand the imprint souls leave on one another – does not remember another witch with emerald eyes throwing herself in front of his wand to protect what she loved.

 

_"Only, you never tried to fix your mistakes – did you Sir?”_

_Slumping shoulders, more useless regret “Hazel...”_

_Shaking hands, set mouth: “No. You decided to leave that to me.”_

 

His spell breaks for the final time in a rush of Giant’s feet and flying arrows. The survivors sprint forward, eyes red and fury blazing from their wands.

 

_“What does it matter now?” Dumbledore whispers softly, “Tom is finished Hazel -”_

_Shadowed eyes, clenched jaw: “Maybe -”_

There’s a swing of a ruby encrusted sword – a screech of rage that shakes the earth....

 

_"But so was Grindlewald and look what happened. Another Dark Lord rose in less than twenty years using the same idea. Then that same thing happened again...”_

 

It is Hermonie that shoves Ginny away from Bellatrix Lestrange, **_Mudblood_** shinning proudly on her exposed forearm as she deflects the mad woman’s curse. Her eyes shine like amber in the dawning light, power swelling to split the marble she stands upon. A gash appears along the dark witch’s right cheek – red trickling to a gaping mouth twisting into a snarl when she deflects the bushy-haired girl’s next curse. “For Hazel.” The girl hisses between dodges and spells, “For Fred, for Dumbledore – for Neville’s parents. For mine...”

Her voice rises with each name, movements quickening until she is nearly a blur – not feeling any of the spells that hit her.

Bellatrix topples backwards, blood the same colour as the girl who stands above her with a wand clutched in steady hands spurting from her heart -

Voldemort SCREAMS.

 

_Emerald eyes glow with golden light streaming from cracks in a familiar barrier: “There’ll be another Dark Lord in my lifetime, another war because the Wizarding World doesn’t learn from it’s mistakes.”_

 

When Voldemort spins, red orbs set on a jaw clenched Hermione, Neville charges forth once more, the sword of Gryfindor swinging from his belt as he bellows “PROTEGO!”

Tom Riddle _laughs_ at the grimy, tear streaked face of the forgotten child of the prophesy. The spine-chilling sound fills the Great Hall yet it does not frighten anyone anymore, least of all the boy whose heart fills with the memory of bright green eyes and a soft hand gripping his own.

_“We’ll make them proud Neville.”_

_Fingers touch the place where light seeps through tenderly as blue eyes widen, “Hazel -”_

The cackling stops, replaced with a voice softer than silk: “Do you truly think you can defeat me boy? When your precious heroes failed?”

_Nails scratch at brick, coating fingertip with dust. “I’m not like you professor. I can’t accept that people died for a happy ending that won’t last.”_

A clenched jaw, straightening shoulders: “Why don’t we find out?”

_Emerald eyes blaze; a scarred fist pulls back even as the old man screams: “HAZEL!”_

 

A terrible smile, a mocking bow “So be it.”

 

_It strikes, and the world trembles_

“Come boy, bow.”

An influx of magic, dark eyes glaring into red and a spine that does not bend. “I won’t.”

_Again_

The ugly smile falters.

Then turns into a snarl as the first jet of green light fires at Neville’s heart.

_Again_

The boy steps aside, arrows shooting his wand that Voldemort banishes back towards him with a furious wave _._

_The man runs forward only to be held back by five pairs of hands as another brick is tossed away. The man struggles, tears welling in dull blue eyes: “YOU CANNOT HAZEL! YOU CANNOT!”_

 

They dance, dark eyes shinning with the rising sun’s _powerfurylove_ never leaving burning _damaged_ red even as breaths became laboured and sweat blurs his vision.

_A young man with messy waves and hazel eyes tightens his grip, growling low in his throat: “She can. She’s my daughter and you_ owe _her this.”_

 

Tom Riddle flicks away a reducto; he falters.

The Elder wand burns in his palm.

 

_Blood drips from battered knuckles, glinting like cooper in golden light -_

_A tremendous roar_

Ragefeardisbelief fill the monster that was once a boy as a steady hand raises a wand, aimed right at his heart.

 

_The wall breaks, crashing down in a mess of dust and stone._

 

Shrieking, a flurry of dark robes and mad ruby eyes: “AVADA  -

 

_And the girl stands amidst the chaos, smiling._

Determination, memories of mirrored walls and determined faces: “EXPELLIARMUS!”

_She spares a glance backwards, meeting eyes the same shade of her own. They glow._

The wand vanishes as its false owner falls, red-eyes wide and unseeing as sunlight bursts through the Great Hall.

 

I~I~I~I~I~I

 

Unspeakables jolt from their stupor as the Veil of Death quakes. They gape, exchanging disbelieving glances until the strength of the tremors grow so that the very room shakes. They run then, tripping over robes in their haste to get away as an unearthly howl resonates across stone walls.

Only one sprints forward, hoping to save some of their research –

A blast sends them flying, twisted remains of equipment falling around them.

Everything stills.

When there’s no relapse after several moments, the Unspeakable looks up –

Only freeze at the image of a girl sprawled before the veil’s entrance, the shadows reaching out as if to embrace her.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!


End file.
